


Blood Is Thicker

by Left_In_The_Wreckage



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Multi, Vampire AU, Vampire Bill Cipher, Vampire Hunter Dipper Pines, Vampire aristocracy, Vampowers, evolved vampires, not all vampires need blood alone to survive, the journals sorta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Left_In_The_Wreckage/pseuds/Left_In_The_Wreckage
Summary: A billdip Vampire Au.This wasn’t the first time a vampire had breached the first clause of the treaty, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was a wonder that the peace still held in spite of the fact, but then, it was one that neither side wanted to see abolished. It held only because of the many other clauses and agreements between the two peoples that not even the most lawless of the blood drinkers would dare disrupt. Dipper never liked it, but the treaty was hard won, and once it was broken, it would be near irreparable. But now they’d stolen the wrong person, and Dipper would make sure they knew it and committed his face to memory. Not even the treaty had been able to save his sister from the threat posed by lone rogues.The lines between the monsters he'd pegged all vampires for and what he's learned about them from the temporary alliance begin to blurr, however, after he joins forces with the head vampire, Bill Cipher.





	1. Another Dark Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N {Dipper blames himself for his sister’s kidnapping, if he’d been strong enough, fast enough, he could have stopped the vampire before it fled the scene with his sister in tow, unconscious, possibly dead already… His only consolation is that she bore no puncture marks. His idea of finding her is to go after every rogue that comes after him or has a known history of making off with their intended victims.}

# Chapter 1: Another dark night

Leaf litter crumpled beneath earnest and heavy, thudding footsteps, at least, they seem that way to their owner. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat, and the pound of his feet hitting the ground as the adrenaline muffled anything else. The moon is high, a great crescent ascending upon the heavens as the sky grew ever darker. Slight panting could be heard as the figure huffed and ran his way through the forest in a desperate kind of frenzy. The moon barely shone through the space from tree to tree, the lush greenery blocking out all but the most trifling amount of the silvery light. When it did breach the cover, however, its illumination revealed brief traces of the figure’s features. Tufts of dark, auburn hair and a flash of pale skin. A hunting knife hung loosely from its sling at his waist, breaking out into a steady rhythm as it beat against his thigh where it would otherwise rest motionless as everything around him.

The runner would not cease his breakneck pace for anything, not a sound goes off around him, and even if it had, it would have failed to give him pause. There were things scarier than the unknown just then, he knew that, and there were far less pleasant things than a chance encounter with something foul in the woods at night. For him at least, this rang true.

Dipper Pines had faced worse than anything lady night could throw at him, he’d lost his twin… and as far as he was concerned, there was no coming back from that.

The bloody scoundrel had come for her and he hadn't been there because of a silly tiff they’d found themselves in. As if that mattered more than her safety. He knew she’d run for the forest, he knew that she wouldn’t head back into the village until he’d apologized or at least gone to comfort her, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to be the one to bend, he’d sacrificed so much of himself, his opportunities… just to keep her smiling. Because, in spite of all Mabel’s insistence that she was the “superior” twin, she still needed to be protected, from all the crazy mishaps that seemed to trail behind the two no matter where they were, from other people, and at times, even herself.

This wasn’t the first time a vampire had breached the first clause of the treaty, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was a wonder that the peace still held in spite of the fact, but then, it was one that neither side wanted to see abolished. It held only because of the many other clauses and agreements between the two peoples that not even the most lawless of the blood drinkers would dare disrupt.Dipper never liked it, but the treaty was hard won, and once it was broken, it would be near irreparable. But now they’d stolen the wrong person, and Dipper would make sure they knew it and committed his face to memory. Not even the treaty had been able to save his sister from the threat posed by lone rogues.

He’d failed Mabel when she needed him most, but he never would have accepted Ford's offer if he’d known this would be the result. He didn’t go after her despite all the dangers in the surrounding area, and by extension, he blamed himself for his sister’s abduction. All the time spent in practice and striving to surpass his Great Uncle to become the strongest, the smartest, and conducting his own investigations… Dipper longed to venture out into the world and see all that Ford promised was out there. It was an opportunity he’d dreamt of for years, but it meant leaving Mabel behind… They’d made a promise to stay together through thick and thin, forever. _A promise he’d kept since they were children and had no one else but each other._  He’d thought she’d be safe, because they had been, _for years_ he’d considered Gravity Falls to be a safe haven.

When he did go looking for her, when he saw her being stolen away… he understood just what she’d felt. Fearful and alone, even now as he clung on to the hope that he could find her, _would_ find her.

It’s the only thing that’s keeping him running now.

Another target, another goal until he found her, told her he was sorry he ever thought to leave her behind. He’d give up anything to see her smile again, to know she’s safe and her life isn’t in danger every second that’s been spared him. _Because it should have been me, not her! No one’s the same without her, I can’t live in a world mourning Mabel, not when **I could have stopped this.** Not while it’s my fault she got swept up by some creep. _

Vaulting over a fallen, fungi infested log,  their bioluminescence the only true lighting beneath the shadows cast by the endless expanse of trees. He recalls so many countless hours of research as it greets his eyes, and long after he leaves them behind in his wake. The blue glow emitted by the mushrooms here are a different shade from the variety around the woods he’d considered home, though it isn't so far off, and they aren’t so different that he couldn’t recognize the genus, part of the phenomenon causing an alarming rate of bioluminescence in the plants of the area his Grunkle Ford called _vi fervidus,_ or _the glowing_ . Ford suggested it was probably caused by the need for the plants to pollinate or draw more attention to themselves, possibly to scare off herbivores from making a meal of them. Dipper only agreed with the latter theory in part, while his Great Uncle believed they were warding off the animals, Dipper drew his own conclusion. They were trying to blend in with the fungi that so outnumbered them, a last resort to ensure they weren’t consumed before their time, picked clean before they had time to wither away on the forest floor. _Husks of themselves_ . . . just like Mabel would be if he couldn't get to her in time. He refused to accept what everyone else had, that it was already too late for her. _Too late for hope._ They couldn't take Mabel. _They couldn’t take his twin._

He prays this time he’ll find her. He doesn’t care who answers so long as it works.

He doesn’t allow himself to consider anything else, not his own health, not his doubts, and certainly not his own life. Nothing mattered if Mabel was out there, and it was _all_ **_his fault._ ** And if he _couldn't_ find her? Then the only thing he wanted carved into his grave marker was an apology in the language he learned hen his time should have been spent protecting his twin _, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa… mea culpa_ , until no space was left to add anything else, so if there was no afterlife, he could at least appear to repent in earnest. As if it would make any difference.

If he failed, he wasn’t going home, as far as he was concerned, there was no home to return to if Mabel in turn couldn’t be there with him. He didn't stop to consider it wasn’t something she’d want for him.

This was not the first night he’d spent hunting under the cover of darkness and below the stars.

One constellation in particular stood out brighter than the others to his mind’s eye as he broke free of the underbrush and overhang of the woodlands, urging him to continue twice as urgently at his break neck pace. Its guidance surging through his pores as he remembers everything he has ever worked for, he intended to give just as much effort it not more to find his other half.

He hadn’t been fast enough then, hadn’t been strong enough or smart enough, and he’d let her down when she needed most. _He’d failed._ Hadn’t he promised he’d always be there for her? He’d been fool enough to forget it for even an instant. He’d wanted to scream, to throw a fit and punch the wall, or someone's face. He compromised by glaring at everyone that stared a moment too long in his general direction, and punching one of the pines that sprouted about proudly wherever they pleased.  He still had splinters from the incident, though they were no longer red and angry, dulled to a dull ache and a small purple bruise at his unprotected knuckles.

The only answer he was able to think of was going after her, and putting a bullet between the eyes of anyone that tried to stop him, so that’s what he was doing. If everyone else refused to look, that was no reason he shouldn’t do this last thing for his other half. She would do the same for him, and he’d be damned before he failed to follow her to the ends of the earth to ensure her the very same safety.

As he ventured farther into the shadows of trees and the all-encompassing forest, Dipper’s thoughts were drawn away from their depressing direction to the task at hand, or at least, the task he’d set out for himself tonight. Finding Blakeart and hopefully, answers. He doubted he’d discover anything new from this vampire, he wasn’t known for frequenting the woods he and Mabel had practically lived in as children, but he spurred on regardless. It wasn’t like he could very well ask these monsters over tea and biscuits whether or not they swiped up any young women in the past week. He’d be accosted by fangs and a flurry of talon like hands before he finished his tea, much less his sentence.

The wooden stake bit into his palm, the wood no doubt callusing and blistering the flesh there as his grip tightened at the image, and the thought of what they could be doing to Mabel Grinding his teeth, he makes another promise; _When I find Mabel, I will throw every blow they’ve dealt her back twice as hard._ The brunette makes his way to his destination in only an hour and a half. He’s making better time now than he’s done this a handful of other nights, though it’s only the tallies on his hunting knife that has him keeping count. Five down and only hundreds of others to go.

This one is male like all the others he’s faced, and has been known to be a blood drinker, frequenting the back alleys and the brothels alike to lure in prey not repulsed by the thought of being drunk from.  He isn’t picky about who he manages to snatch, and while he seemed to hold residence a good distance from the scene of the kidnapping, it wouldn’t hurt to put another blood drinker of old to rest.

This mansion signified a drastic change in tactics for Dipper. While the others he’d hunted had found him in the woods and gone after him, this time it would be Dipper entering the unknown and facing the blood sucker’s home turf to get answers, or drive a stake through his heart.

Aside form that, it seemed pretty ordinary from the outside, aside from the apparent decay of the roof’s tiles and the overall age of the monument. If he hadn’t done his research, he might not have known to look here at all. It had a balcony overlooking what must have at one point been a well-maintained garden, but resembled more of a jungle due to prolonged neglect, shaded windows, and  a wrought iron gate, one he easily slipped over, only to find his dress shirt had gotten caught somehow between the posts. _Not now._

Dipper bit his lip, surveying the area with a skeptical eye. It was no secret that most vampires had a keener sense of smell than humans, in fact, they bragged about it often, especially the neighborhood shut-in, Robbie, that and the fact that their senses were all “superior” to your average no-fangs. It was something Dipper learned early on to be a weakness as much as it was a strength, however, if he couldn’t get unstuck, then it would very well prove to be _his_ disadvantage.

Something skittered in the bushes of the overgrown garden, something large and with enough of a shadow that it had to be larger than any forest animal. Dipper stood frozen longer than he’d like to admit, every hair standing on end, before shaking himself out of his panic-induced paralysis. It was move then or wait for the other to make his move, and he was not about to let that happen. The element of surprise wasn’t on his side, but he still had a few tricks on his side. He could get out of this, he just had to keep an eye out while he got his shirt out from its ensnarement. He could get out of this, stuck or no, he’s faced worse things with no more intelligence than its beastiality, vampires weren’t typically like that. He tried not to let his thoughts wander to the knowledge that, while Vampires weren’t usually mindless creatures, their bloodlust often blinded them, and if they weren’t new blood and hungry? No one in the vicinity of twenty miles was safe.

He was right not to neglect keeping an eye out over the surrounding area, not a moment longer than he began to turn his head that the shadow stalked forward with inhuman celerity, snarling, with its sickly yellow teeth bared. The figure’s breath was a god awful mixture of vinegar and wet dog, and if Dipper had to assume merely based off of that fact, he would have already classified this one as an old-world vampire, one of the last few ancients that lived to see the peace formed between their two races, or technically species. Dipper knew they weren’t all as human as they appeared to be. Mabel’s kidnapper was proof of that. His head snapped back from a blow he didn't see coming from his attacker, a solid hit, square on the jaw. Dipper tasted copper, his teeth having grazed his inner cheek at the impact. If the vampire was trying to catch him off guard, Dipper was ashamed to admit he was pretty successful, his head hit the fence hard enough to send it to ringing, that and the ungodly shrieks of the other seriously gave him enough of a headache to disorient his thought processes. How was any throat able to make such a racket? _Throat!_ Nearly as soon as he’d thought it, he felt cold, clawed hands against his neck and collarbone, prying at the high collar to try and tear at it. With every little scratch the vampire got in the more frenzied it became, the smell of iron-rich blood overwhelming it. Desperately he struggled to push the man off, to kick or knee him off, even elbow him in the gut to push him away as his free hand searched his pockets for some kind of powder. He couldn't see the colors in the dark, and he really should have organized them back after the last two scuffles he’d been in, but any of them would suit him needs. Still, he tried identifying them by texture, the itching powder was almost like flour a little clumpy in places, the ground mushroom… no use in this situation, he didn't need to see the vampire, he was on top of him, no… what he needed was- _Aha!_

Dipper didn't even try to hide his pleased grin when he found the correct bag of elements, not that the vampire would have noticed as blood thirsty was he was in that moment, Dipper concluded with a sigh, his smile faltering with his sense of achievement. This one… this one couldn't have taken Mabel or been in the right mind to hear anything about her disappearance, not if he was this out of control with the need to drink his life blood. Just another dead end. Still, as if mocking him to bring him back to the present, the Old bat was shrieking in his ears again, gripping the iron fence to box him in, straining and craning his own neck to get as close to Dipper’s as possible. It was almost funny to watch, if it weren’t so terrifying.“N-Not today! I’m afraid I’d like to keep my throat intact as you can probably see,” Dipper threw the golden dust at the offending man’s eyes, “Or you know, maybe you can’t after all.” It took a moment for it to sink in that something had made contact with the other’s face at all, and Dipper was worried that he’d somehow made a mistake, before a guttural howl resonated from the figure and he slipped to the grass in agony, recoiling as Dipper took a step forward.

 _Blinding dust,_ a little concoction Dipper had discovered the recipe to years ago, a little mix of various ingredients insanely difficult to gather, and of course, just a pinch of lemon juice, because why not? It was _hella painful._ The relief he felt when it kicked in had been immense, and Dipper didn’t bother saying anything else, just left the scene, panting and fixing his collar, or what was left of it.. It was nearly dawn after all, and if this was an ancient, an Old Age vampire like he thought, then he wouldn't last long enough to warrant a response from him. He’d be blind for a while, blind to everything but the pain, and if he wasn’t actually blinded- though Dipper doubted it- he’d be seeing the worst of his nightmares. He wouldn’t recognize Dipper much less which direction he was in. There were still a lot of things about _Blinding dust_ that Dipper didn't actually know, he hadn’t made it himself, and he hadn’t shared his discovery with Ford, he didn't even know he’d ever have a reason to use it, always thinking it was such a cruel way to treat anyone. That was before they took Mabel, though. What he did remember, with a small shudder, was it had some nasty _side effects_. If the vampire wasn’t reduced to ash by the sunrise, then Dipper might actually have it in him to pity him. It wasn’t like he could have done anything for him, he couldn't interrogate him, he’d been defending himself and if he let this one go he’d either follow him back home or slaughter some other innocent bystander. Besides, every time he thought of that… he imagined it was his twin, Mabel, being dragged off all over again and he felt his stomach flip, bile burning at his throat.


	2. Open Invitations and First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ballrooms and character interactions. Bill Cipher's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU MAY GET CONFUSED IF YOU DON'T READ: Mind, I use "cousin" lightly for Will, he is Bill's "kin", or his "cousin" which is an older term for just acknowledging a family member. He is Bill's twin, though he appears more youthful and naive to others, it's why Bill can get away with calling him a fledgling, though he rarely does this because it is a grave insult, akin to calling him a "turned" vampire that is getting used to the bloodlust or a child, often this refers to a misbehaved or impatient child or member of a vampire family.
> 
> Regular A/N: There's a bit more focus on the actual character interactions and thoughts than the actual surroundings, unlike the first chapter where I thought it was more important. I'm not used to writing ballroom scenes and I didn't want to make this chapter to long, so this is the result. It went through a few different versions before it became this.

Storm blue eyes trailed across the lavish ballroom’s floor as guests filtered in through heavy, oaken doors from what felt like yards away. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but the night still young, he continued to keep an eye out regardless of the fact. Polished shoes and delicate slippers grace porcelain tiles in sixes and eights as crowds began to form. None spared the tiled mosaic a glance when clear, authentic crystal drew their eyes instead as the chandeliers emitted their golden glow.

Everything was as it should be, not a soup spoon or knife out of place. The room itself a mesh of architectural genius… or perhaps, brave arrogance was a word to better acquaint it to. Reminiscences of past renaissances and homage to the great pyramids of Egypt stood out against the star lit night beneath the cleverly domed ceiling. The more modern fixes like ornate trimming were added almost as if the embellishments were preexistent rather than an afterthought on the part of the estate’s owner. Oddly enough, it worked.

The usual guests carried themselves with great care and grace as if the very ground was beneath them in every sense of the word. They wore gowns of the richest silks and velvet and filed in through the grand entrance at their own pace to join the exuberant atmosphere provided by the many revelers that had been there since sundown and would surely stay till dawn were the Lord of the manner to allow it. As for the irregulars, those only invited on the rare occasion such as tonight they hung back and kept their distance, a few awkwardly finding their way among the finery or bubbling over with excitement. It wasn’t every decade they were invited to see the grounds of _the_ lord Cipher.

At the moment, their host took pleasure in surveying his soon-to-be audience, his eyes upturned in otherwise reserved delight. Of course, these vicennial events weren’t his favourite to host as most everyone was invited, but he would be lying if he claimed to loathe them for what they were worth.

These events tended to be drawn out at times as one could imagine when this was such a rarity for a good number of the attendees as the Lord of the manner preferred to keep to himself more over entertaining and opening this home to countless others. When he did, however, whether it was due to obligation or a whim, he aimed to impress.

He found it amusing at least, that he could go so unnoticed when he wished it for all his exuberance and for all the party goers would search for their _generous_ host. Supping on his drink of crushed, fermented grapes he felt a smirk cross his angular features. Suppose he would step out from his shadowed corner now? Just how many of his guests would resort to sucking up to him? It had long ago become a sort of game to predict the stratagems and reactions of the assortment of folks that came for the mandatory events like these. Well, they weren't exactly mandatory now, so much as necessary for any individual’s survival these days. It was simple, if you were a vampire, and served and respected the “crowned” elite, then you showed up. If you didn’t, you risked being outed and possibly killed for treason if you weren’t shunned outright for the small rebellion. One didn’t even need to remain more than an hour’s time within the halls. You came, and you gave your renewed oath of continued allegiance for the next half a century or, so if you were one of the influential few, and what you did afterward was your own business. For as long as Bill had been accepted as head vampire, there had never been a single absent guest… _rebels, however,_ were a different story.

His smirk fell and his eyes smoldered with the dark turn of his thoughts. Despite all his best efforts to better society, all his power and influence, there were those that were just too stubborn to give in, to accept what was good for them like children that rejected foul tasting medicine even spoonfed as they were. It had been simple, _All hunting grounds will be founded outside of the dwellings of man,_ been there, done that, it was still being ignored, _no disturbing the others’ food sources to the extent that they feel the need to migrate elsewhere_ , that one… that one was a more difficult than it had seemed to be at the time. There were just too few animals for the fledglings. It seemed only the humans were keeping their side of the bargain, and there was no doubt they’d picked up on the injustice of it. Setting his glass on the ledge before he walked off further down the hall, these thoughts persisted. This soiree as it were, was a farce, a mockery of the very thing he’d worked hard to achieve.

Lost in the stirrings of his mind, he failed to notice the approach of one Tad Strange. He failed to miss his words however, as the other made his presence clear. “My Lord, when do you intend to lurk in the shadows of your own gathering? All these people have come to align themselves to your cause and pledge their loyalties once mor-”

 “I am well aware of that fact, Stange. As for your question, would it be so wrong? My thoughts have turned morbid and I’m afraid I just might take someone’s head off if talk of… _certain matters_ arises.” a moment of silence passed before Bill peered over his shoulder to meet Tad’s eye. No doubt the other was displeased to hear the blatant disregard of his composure, yet his expression remained as neutral as was the norm in these circumstances. Having cleared his throat a moment prior, he made his case to reassure the blonde and attempted to knock some sense into his hot-headed demeanor.

 “I may see nothing wrong with it, and you may find your appearance tonight to be a trivial thing, but it is not to those that have attended. Even if they do not know it, they need to see you, the face of the new generation. They need to see their leader is capable and _present_. Not to mention the few in that crowd that have never seen your face much less heard your name before tonight.” Tad shook his head, black hair still held miraculously in place. Bill assumed he must have used some hair gel or other, but could see no signs of it. The man was just too… organized, honestly. It was made even worse by social gatherings when the man reminded him how important appearances were, like now. Bill barely registered that he never quit speaking. “This is not something you can dismiss with an apology letter… my Lord.” Tad added with a hesitant finality as he peered around to ensure no passersby had heard their Lord’s personal guard addressing their leader with such informality. He didn’t miss the other’s eye roll, though he made no comment on it, focused as he was to convey his point without drawing unwanted attention that an argument would bring.

The blonde sighed, “I know that… but surely you realize how much of a joke this is? Keeping the treaty in place. No one is honestly here for that.”

“ _Cipher,_ if that truly the case I wouldn’t be here _now_ .” If looks could kill, of course he’d heard this from Bill before, but it took no small amount of his reserves and self restraint to bite his tongue and keep his balled fists at his sides. “Are you going to continue your sulking or are you going to shape up and show your guests, _your subjects_ , why _you_ are their king?”

It seemed that was all Bill needed to hear. “I’m your king too, so keep your head about you Tad, or things will get pretty Strange around here,”

Tad actually bristled at the comment, “did- did you just… Cipher! Get back here, you- you scoundrel!” Said “scoundrel” had practically flown down the corridor, a cakeling buffoon no one seemed to pay any heed to. Tad, however...

It wasn’t often Bill could pull a fast one over the violet loving gentleman, so as one could imagine, it lightened his sombre mood, albeit slightly. Reaching the stair railing he noticed that his glass had been dealt with sometime after he’d abandoned it, so either the staff was working overtime tonight or he’d wandered the hall for longer than he realized. Strange didn’t follow him, but he could feel his eyes carefully watching his actions in case he needed to intervene. It was needless, however, because Tad was right. There would be no putting this off. In all honesty, he was still tempted to leave, he had no real business here after all, and he was no longer in the mood to gage the envious and the awe struck expressions of any of his guests. He may be the host, but no one said he had to be a _good_ host. Contrary to what the square had insisted, it wasn’t as if he’d be sorely missed, he knew for a fact that many of them would find comfort in his absence and he didn’t need to be a mind reader to pick up on that. It was time for him to make his appearance and take his leave. If Tad wanted to scold him for it, he could do so later. _If only it were that simple._

Bill’s heeled half-boots clacked on the stairway with a practiced finality, those who have spotted him ceased whatever they were doing to gawk. He smiled at this, flashing his sharper canines and resting his arms at the small of his back. He’d chosen a simple, but vibrant sunshine yellow dress shirt and slacks this year, wanting to make all the others feel overly dressed in all their formal, stiff collars and stuffy corsets. It was only a _public_ event after all. A few actually shrunk back under his gaze and hid behind nervous fanning. _Marvelous._

He grabbed another glass off a passing server’s tray and stalked to the center of the room below the grand arched ceiling, nodding his approval that the orchestra was to continue their playing, under the realization that yes, they had let their harmonies fade as he revealed himself. He’d received everyone’s attention fully now, of that he was certain. He need only give his speech and slip out unnoticed.

“If you are anything like me, this is not your first glass of wine,” he jested, smiling as he waited for the crowd around him to quiet their laughter before continuing, “Now, we all know why we’re here, to celebrate the first thirty years of peace between us and the humans as well as to establish or in most cases, _re-establish_ , the point of your loyalties. I am glad to report that no one that was here when the treaty was introduced, _survived_ and didn’t turn against _me_ …. Is indeed, here, unless they’re part of the select few with my permission to excuse themselves for some emergency or other,” he mutters the last bit under his breath with a dismissive wave of his hand, though not because he didn’t wish to be heard, as anyone paying close enough attention would have picked up on it. A few coughs echoed through the room from dull and dry throats, just as eager to leave as him, “I have a feeling this year will be one to remember!” With that, Bill downed his goblet of champagne and a servant accepting the empty glass shuffled away without so much as a backward glance.

Flouncing about the room to give the unwanted crowd the slip, Bill very nearly succeeded, until Teeth sought him out, grabbing him by the arm and chattering his ear off in that way of his, drawing the attention in his direction once again. _Oh, dear._ The straw-haired individual didn’t seem to notice Bill’s plight, vying instead to lead him towards the stairwell across from where he’d emerged, no doubt towards the others of Bill's inner circle. Any other time this may have been welcome, if unwonted.

As he was skirted once again by faces both familiar and new, diplomats and aristocratic gawkers alike, Bill only found frustration in the “helping” hand. The time he’d once found this amusing long past its due. No one was smiling anymore, or at least, he wasn’t, not really. It didn’t meet his eyes, though most wouldn't notice it, too busy with their insistant chatter and political suggestions and yes, the occasional ass-kisser’s praise. It was all worth the same to him, pointless drawl that he no longer paid any mind to. He’d slipped away from teeth in the crowd, but his own exit seemed increasingly more difficult to craft.

He was convinced he would have to resort to more drastic measures of threatening his guests with a candle stick, when a pounding at the entryway drew everyone’s attention. It ceased as abruptly as it began, and everyone resumes their frivolity, leaving the blonde alone in his scrutiny of the offending entrance. _Just what am I paying those guards to do again_ ? He almost shrugged the whole thing off, but he refused to doubt his intuition now.  and sure enough, under Bill’s critical eye, the doors flew open to reveal a flustered and wild haired man, that could have been a carbon copy of himself… If Bill ever entertained the thought of dying his hair a solid _blue,_ of all colors.

“B-Bill!”, the duplicate called, just short of outright sobbing. He leapt past guards and courtier guests alike where they gathered around the blonde like a shield. At one point he had seen Tad move to deflect a hand or two readied to strike the lithe figure of his doppelganger.

Bill could only roll his eyes at their reaction, it was as if they’d never seen his kin before now, though it had been years since Will’s last public appearance. Tad sure remembered him, though he supposed that was unfair since he’d joined him on all his visits to the other’s dwelling. Clearing his throat the vampire pushed through the crowd, brushing their attempts at holding him back aside as he makes his way over to the distraught “intruder”.

Bill raised his brow in question at Will’s disheveled appearance, but continued to wave the others off, his steps never faltering. Cool and calculated, anything else would only make them question and spread rumors best kept between those involved.

“Will, what’s wrong?”, he asks softly, but loud enough for the others to hear, always listening as they were. Still, they seem to soothe the spooked man just a little, though his ragged breaths wouldn’t relent quite so easily.

“H- Hunter… th… he… he..” Will’s laboured breaths rendered his sentence to mere fragments, pure nonsense… except for that first word. It sent chills down Cipher’s spine, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he heard it, and the others in the room had much the same idea, hissing under their breath. The gnashing of fangs and unsheathing of concealed weapons raised even more red flags.

Bill was the first to regain his composure, clasping his brother’s shoulder rather harshly, “Will… _We’ve talked about this_ ,” Bill forced an apologetic smile he reserved for such stiff occasions, and flashed his jovial look across the room, voice projected to reach every ear in the ballroom, “I cannot apologize enough for this fledgling’s over reaction, he’s got all of us all riled up for nothing! Just another nightmare I assure you, poor thing’s been having them nonstop for the better part of a week now. I told him he could come to me if they ever bothered him, I suppose I should have visited him prior to this little event to ease his nerves. If you’ll excuse me.”

Some of the faceless others in the crowd laugh and accept his answer, others see it for what it is, his inner circle of maniacs being the majority of the more observant fellows. It would have to do, so long as they didn’t follow, after all, it wasn’t a request, it was an order. If Bill asked for something, it was best to let him have it. And when it came to orders, Tad would do what he could to ensure they were followed.

Stealing his brother away from the prying eyes of the courtiers, Bill wound his arm around Will’s shoulder, holding him steady, grounded. Still, he spoke in hushed tones as he lead the other down the hall to his office, in an attempt to help the other collect himself. They couldn't reach the office soon enough in his opinion. When the familiar arched doorway came into view, and the hallways proved empty as they were quiet, Bill sealed the door shut and let his arms wrap around the other’s shoulders in a tight embrace, using his words to further ground the younger vampire before settling into the important questions. When the tears ceased and the hiccups have subsided as much as they were going to, Bill took the chance to question the distraught cousin.“Will, are you having nightmares again? Why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?”, he asked quietly. Will shook his head in answer, but as he did so, his wild eyes and worried lip tipped Bill off that he was being lied to. He smothered the irritation that rose at the fact with a tired sigh. Getting angry with Will wouldn’t solve anything. “Will… we talked about this, no one is after you. The humans know hunting would breach the treaty. They wouldn't risk our wrath by crossing that line.” _If they were going to,_ he thought, _they would have done so already,_ but he said none of this aloud.

“I-I know that! It’s just… I know it’s not another n-nightmare! I swear it isn’t this time. I- I’ve been having visions ag-gain, and I- I followed them this time-” Will’s tears threatened to fall once more and his words are breaking up that much more between his hiccuping and hyperventilating.

The sight left Bill conflicted between scolding him for being so careless, and comforting the other before the tears claimed him, “Will! Get ahold of yourself! You haven’t had a vision since you were seven, and you know what happened the last time-”

“I-I know that! Y-you think of all people I w-would forget?!” The golden eyes of the other were furious behind the initial tears before the fear returned, “I-I just wanted to make s-sure so you wouldn’t have- wouldn’t have to, only to have it be wrong… a-and… I found… _remains_.”

“Remains?” Bill asked, stiff, hoping he’d heard anything but those words.

Will  refused to meet his eyes when he answered him, but the blonde knew he wouldn’t go to the extent he had to make any of this up. “V-vampire remains. N-not one week old, a-anyone of them… at least not when I checked. They w-weren’t...I ch-checked. S-someone’s hunting u-us!”

Bill grows deathly quiet, as the gravity of the other’s words sunk in. He felt the world around him shift as if the news had tilted the space around him on its side. In a way it had. This news meant there was no longer a balance for him to maintain. “ _Where?_ ”.

“I-I d-don’t know how b-but-”

Bill stalked away from the seated brunette and glared down at his reflection in the window’s pane. “I asked you where you’ve seen this, not how it was done!” He saw Will flinch, but he made no move to apologize, his main concern at the moment was on the implications of a hunter in the midst of everything else that had transpired over the years following the treaty. The humans had kept to their end to that point, so the question was, _why now?_ Why now would they choose to strike?

“Th-the closest one is o-only twenty miles from my own territory.”

Bill took a deep breath, he couldn’t let that get to him, he had to address the news as best he could, adjust the rules and find the ones manipulating things around his blind spot. _Before now I didn’t even know I_ had _a blind spot._ “Are they headed for your general direction?”

“Y-yes. They… they should reach my home in a few nights time if they’re keeping up a consistent cycle. I wouldn’t g-give it any more than two nights hence.”

The blonde facepalmed before covering his scowl with a gloved hand, how long had Will claimed this had been going on for again? “Are you certain?”

“I-I wouldn’t be here i-if I wasn’t, but… I- I didn’t see any visions that lead to my own demise at their hands… it’s p-possible they’ll glance over me and-”

Bill sneered, how could he be so naive? Didn’t he know what they were dealing with? Didn’t he remember like Bill was forced to? “Glance over you and what, pretend you don’t exist and neglect a chance to put another one of us in the coffin? Is that what you were going to say?” He received no answer, but it was enough for him to know that was exactly what he’d been thinking.  “Will….?” Bill trailed off.

The bluenette raised his head from the floorboards, at the mention of his name, “Yes?”

“I want you to stay here for a few nights, just until this blows over. _And I’m not asking._ I humbly extend my home to you and bid you welcome, though I would wish circumstances were brighter.” he added before the other could object.

The dejected expression of the other wasn’t missed, but Bill ignored it for the time being. His safety was what they were discussing, his literal life and death. He refused to be the bad guy who used his authority to get his way, Will had to realize they weren’t kids anymore. They wouldn’t be overlooked a second time. Standing up and straightening his dress shirt, Will moved to obey his elder. “O-of course. Which room will I be staying in?”

“The one we used to share when we were children should do, and dispel your fear of unfamiliar places. Try to get some sleep, at least?”

“O-okay”, Will turned to leave, but was again held back by Bill’s additions. It was starting to bother him, and Bill knew it, he can't tell. He was smiling again. It was enough for Will to forgive him for the moment.

 Bill continued to stare out the window though his eyes were centered around the waxing moon, “I _will_ put an end to this. So no more crying, and as is custom, you are not to speak of this to anyone but me.” He peered over his shoulder then to catch the other's understanding of the need for secrecy in this.

Will blanched at his grave tone, but he still managed to force a small smile before taking his leave. It put to rest Bill’s own fears for the time being, it was more than he could ask of the bluenette after the shock he delivered in the ballroom. Hearing the door click shut, Bill staye in place, but he released his fierce grip on the window’s ledge. Noticing the marks he’d left in the polished wood, he grimaced. Surveying the damage he found he was lucky to have avoided splinters altogether. It was all he could think to do to keep from losing his temper during the exchange, most of the exchange anyway. He’d still snapped at the other… Resting his forehead on the cool glass he sought to find comfort in the solitude he’d given anything to achieve during tonight’s event, but he found he no longer desired it. He was tempted to call William back, or even invite Tad so he could start early on his paperwork if it meant he wasn’t left to his own devices. His thoughts were dark enough when they were visited by the reminders that rouges were still very much at large, but his?! A hunter… There was a hunter on the prowl and the only solid means he had of tracking him down was the trail of ash and corpses left in their wake.

Well, that wasn't _entirely_ true.

He finally acknowledged the gleam of polished steel in his peripheral and with it a name he hadn’t thought of in nearly thirty years.

_Stanford Filbrick Pines…_


	3. Chapter 3: Old Acquaintances and Older Trusts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Bill intercepts Ford, the last known “trained” hunter, to call in a favor. He knows the hunter is from that area, and he wants names/ a name.

Frustration, anger, Bill was above all that... After all, Hunters were disbanded for a reason, the news he received changed nothing. Even if this was a real threat, which it _wasn't_ \- Bill would ensure it stayed that way- then he would deal with it. He’d worked too damn hard to see everything he’d built collapse as if it never was. It was probably some dumb kid or wise guy trying to remember the old days, to find some glory no matter how lackluster it was in their day and age, or how it would affect anyone. It astonished Bill how so many could forget how vital it was they coexist… Did thirty years kill everyone that knew what it was like when everyone was killing each other? He knew he’d never forget, there wasn’t ever enough wine, a hard enough hit to the head, or the “better life” he’d advertised. Sure, the cities were brighter, and no one was dying, or… at least they hadn’t been before this wannabe made his presence known, but it all felt much the same. _Nothing changed anymore._ It was dull and consistent, much like the pacing of his horse, steady and always in a state of equilibrium. He supposed he was just impatient after all, to draw that particular comparison. Fidgeting with his gloves, and shifting in the saddle he pulled at the reins to stop the horse a good walk from his destination. Sliding to the ground, the blonde’s whether worn boots left an impression on the muddy ground beneath him. His lips curled in a look of mild disgust. He’d never been a fan of the mud, but he supposed the rain was necessary, and it couldn’t be helped, he knew before he'd even set foot out of his territory what the weather would be like before the fat drops rained down after his horse’s gait. It would continue to rain later tonight as well. The sky was still grey, and he could feel potential electric currents in the air. The atmosphere was thick with it. But the rain would be the least of his troubles if he put this off another day, loathe though he was to admit it, he needed the help of an old… _acquaintance_ . He didn’t dare call this man a friend. _Not anymore_.

It wasn’t much farther now, just a quarter of a league. A short walking distance, and if he was quick, he could easily return back to the manor in record time. He doubted it though, he hadn’t exactly been on the best terms with the old geezer when last they spoke.

He’d nearly lost an eye and the other… well, he was sent adrift for a time.

Unsurprisingly, he found the man obsessing over another one of his journals, and he fought the sense of _deja vu_ that built up at the observation. A step closer to the enraptured man and Bill took note that it seemed to be a new one, from what he could tell. Of course, he knew from inside sources what the old man had been doing with his spare time as of late, but it was one thing to actually see it… The smart guy had truly moved on, then? Pushed his memories to the wayside along with his old research. A shame really, after all the dedication he’d poured into those notes, that it would be so coldly abandoned. Even if it had been thirty years prior, what was thirty years in the face of eternity? _Well,_ Bill thought, _it’s now or never._ It wasn’t that he was nervous, just… reluctant to disturb the past, because that was exactly what he intended to do.

 _“Stanford Pines_ , just the man I was looking for,” Bill smirked as he watched the other for his reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

Ford’s back straightened from his crouch and his eyes darted about the lawn opposite of the supernatural. He would recognize that voice anywhere as the very same that haunted his mind for three long decades and would continue to until the day he died.  “What are you doing here, _Cipher_? You made it quite clear our business transactions were over, unless… You’re here to kill me?” Bill heard the glimmer caught his eye before a whisper of metal grazed his ear before a thud from behind him reminded him of the mans' more violent hobbies from even before he'd met him. He didn't need to turn to see the silver dagger embedded within one of the structural columns of the shack. The accusation was clear, and the way he said it made Bill think he actually believed it. If only it was that simple.

Bill smiled, not for the first time, wondering what he expected from this little reunion. “I see you’re just as sharp as ever, but you’re not the same man I met years ago, what changed _Fordsy_?”, he asked innocently, as if he didn’t already know exactly what the man had been through over the years.

The other’s fixed glare really irked Bill, it seemed a permanent fixture in his presence and he wasn’t fond of it to start with. _And after everything we’d accomplished together too, ungrateful much?_

Ford refused to budge, as a Pines, he had a reputation for being as stubborn as a mule, _and nearly as blind sided as one_ , Bill noted. The old geezer wasn’t about to let Bill pull at his strings again, not in his territory. He did, however, relax his stance, it didn’t go unnoticed by Bill how the man’s hand hovered above his gun holster. The gun must have been a safety precaution at most, he was bluffing. At least, it would bode better for him if he was.“I asked you a question first. Why are you here, and in broad daylight no less?! Are you trying to get one of us killed?”

Bill made a face at that before a grin broke free and a chuckle found its way past his throat. He’d forgotten how much fun the old man was to mess with. “Are you implying that you aren’t capable of defending yourself?”

“ _Of course not_ , are you going to ignore what I just said about you not being able to?”

“I can forgive your off handed offense and tolerate your… lack of manners. _For now_.”

He didn’t miss the other’s expression, nor did he care to acknowledge it, let him stare, it was all the man could do. “as for why I’m here… would you mind if we step inside, I would hate to have this chat _outside_.” he eyed a window in his peripheral that has the windows drawn back before a curious pair of eyes. “For a number of reasons.”

“Anything you have to say can be said out here, the sun’s not even out today and you brought this upon yourself, coming out here like this.”

“Really, now, Sixer?“ Bill sighed, “alright, _fine_.” he turned his back to the man, before muttering under his breath.

“Pardon, what was that exactly? Speak up, Cipher, you know very well this hearing isn’t getting any better.” _We both know that’s a lie_ , Bill thought, but he made no further comment on it as he was motioned inside the rundown dwelling. 

If the outside was just a little worn down, the outside was... quaint. It smelled faintly of old cigars and crushed pine needles. The floors were covered in books and maps, he assumed he wasn't meant to see, but had no problem surveying while the other wasn't looking. Nothing too out of the ordinary... but then this was just one side of the house, and he had a feeling he had been expected.

“I want a _list_ , Ford, and I want an _accurate_ one this time, either that, or you start telling me the truth from the horse’s mouth,” He spun on him, “I have a hunter on the loose and if I don’t do something about it soon there will be more than a little damage control necessary to settle everything.”

This argument was too familiar, it was the same one he’d used before. “That’s always been your specialty, hasn’t it Cipher? As long as you don’t lose your place-”

“It’s more than _you_ could have done in your _own time_ , and you know it. Now, are you going to tell me who the hell decided to step out of line in your old circle of friends, or am I going to have to try other methods to get you to talk?”

“I really don’t know what you’re going on about Cipher, I told you those days were over for me, and I have no reason to want the treaty to fail anymore than you would.”

“Of _course not_ ,” Bill threw the words back at the man with as much malice as he can manage, “but you _do_ know who’s doing this. Your sixth finger is twitching, and I know when I’m being lied to. You know more than you're letting on and I won’t leave until you tell me what that is.”

Faster than Bill would credit the man for he was face to face with a gun aimed for his forehead and he was certain he’d seen a spark of something feral in the man’s expression, unforgiving and murderous. Almost bloodthirsty. He straightens and looks Ford dead on, without even glancing at the piece of weaponry, he knows its name, its maker and everything clicks into place. Ford saw it too, but held his ground, too late to take back the action. "Silver Eyes? So... you _were_ expecting me."

When he refused to speak further, Bill feigned exasperation, though he found it wasn't too far off. “ _Fordsy, Fordsy, Fordsy_ … The mere fact that you haven't driven me off yet tells me you know something.” When he received no reply, his eye twitched, he was losing his patience here and for all he knew he could be running out of time. “A name, sixer! All I’m asking for is a name and then I’m out of your hair.” Bill bared his teeth, “Whoever you’re trying to protect won’t be worth the consequences, not while I still run on traditional values. What will it be Fordsy? Are you going to give me a name, or am I going to start breaking things?”

“I'll be the one breaking things if you don't leave my property and this town. Now.”

 _“Fine_ , but do you want to know what I’ve gathered from your _very telling_ outbursts first?”

Ford's brows furrowed before he covered up his confused concern, and his arm pointing the gun faltered almost unnoticed by them both. "I have nothing for you to read into. I told you, I don't have anything to tell you."

Bill rolled his eyes and batted the firearm away from himself, Ford didn't object and spared little time moving it back to its holster when he found Bill wouldn't speak until he'd disarmed it. “From your lack of response, most anything you say could lead me to my culprit, which means it’s someone you either see often or are very close to,” He pushed the gun aside and walks the room, looking for anything he might have missed in his earlier evaluations, and to avoid looking his old friend in the face.

“I am familiar with the disappearance of another gravity falls citizen, just as I know justice has yet to be served… so it’s someone from this town. It couldn't be _you_ because well… a number of reasons, let’s call it a hunch though, to save your pride.” HE watched for any change in the other's expression as he spoke, a great deal of this was just guesswork, he'd have to use what he could to gauge the reactions he was looking for. He had to rely on the old man's past of being an open book, not sure if it was still relevant to date as it once had been. 

“But there are other Pines and I know you have it in your blood to be hunters… you were proof of that, so now all I have to figure out is whether or not I can ask someone else in this rundown, sleepy little town at random to learn the name of the vigilante you had under your roof… Or I could always ask your brother… _oh, wait_ , aren’t your little niece and nephew in town? I’ll just have to ask that lovely family of yours if they’ve noticed anything… _off_ around here lately. I’m sure they’d love to hold a chat with a forgotten family friend. Maybe I’ll even invite one over for a drink-”

The murderous look in the old Pines' eyes grew at the implied threat. 

“Leave them out of this, I was the one hunting you despicable brutes down,” Ford answered, a little too quickly.

“Oh?” _Someone’s still lying,_ Bill thought annoyed. “And why pray tell, would you do something so stupid, and at your age?”

“My niece was stolen, Cipher. It’s enough to drive anyone to break a few promises.”

“Yes, well… not you. That does raise the question of who else was close enough to her to step out of line. Say, you lost your twin once Sixer, how well did you take that? Would you say that’s worth someone doing something equally crazy?” The man flinched back at the expression on the other's face. The wounds were still fresh on that topic and the blue-eyed devil knew it, his pleased grin at his reaction told him it would only be the first of a number of jabs the vampire had tucked away in his sleeves. He knew what made him tick and Ford could have sworn he loved exploiting the fact.

“We both know I’m no fan of blood Stanford… so why are you so defensive? Is it- no… couldn’t be, you gave your oath after all… but is there by any chance a relative of yours running rampant under your tutelage? It has to be someone close enough for you not to be surprised about the attacks and to even chart them down, don’t think I didn't notice your little setup there, Ford, and someone important enough for you to keep quiet despite the dangers it posed to you and the others, and no one is more important to you than family. Am I wrong?”

“I won’t tell you again, Cipher, stay away from my family, they shouldn't need to pay for my own mistakes.”

“It was your nephew… wasn’t it?” His heels clicked as he made a full stop beside the main room’s only window. “ _Wasn’t it?_ !” He asked again, his eyes burning like coals as they bore down at the grey-haired, retired, hunter. His silence was almost as unbearable as his voice, Bill thought, he hated it, hated him… hated this damned hut he lived in, he was suffocating on the feeling when the reason for it was standing _right there_

He snarled, his fangs showing through as he fought the images. He needed to get away from here before he lost anymore his patience, he’d wasted enough time here as it was. He could piece the rest of this picture together himself, it wasn’t like the old man had given him anything to work with besides his own delightful reactions. At least, that's what Bill would have considered them at one point, but this had been about as invigorating as it had been tiresome. “You’re always so stubborn, but I don't need you to answer, I already know-” He’d already reached the entryway and his soon to be exit point when a six-fingered hand latched onto his shoulder.

 

“Cipher!”

 

Bill peered over his shoulder, his hand extended towards the doorknob, to humor the man. It was the least he could do, even inadvertently, he'd given him all the information he needed.

They stood in silence while the other struggled to find it in himself to make his request, how to word it in a way to elicit some sympathy or morality in that pocket sized hole in the left side of the vampire’s chest where his heart should have been. “He’s a good man, just young and stupid-”

Bill snorted, was this really where this was going? Old Sixer was asking _him_ for _mercy_?! And after all that goading too… His own answer came easier, he wouldn’t be swallowing any of his pride at the doorstep of his enemy, not now, not ever. “Good, that will make this easier.”

From his limited view of the man, Ford seemed to blanche at his answer. _Was he honestly surprised?_

“ _C_ _ipher_! Cipher don't you lay a hand on him, you hear me?!”

He laughed at that,  it was a little late for him to plead his case, much less threaten him... hadn't he already pulled a gun out on him? That only worked once if you were lucky enough, but twice?

"I hear you, but I owe you _nothing_ ,” Bill replied before he slammed the door, leaving Ford to his shaking house as the sound reverberated.

It was still raining, but when he returned home, he felt lighter than he had been before his visit despite the heavy, sodden cloak he let slip from his shoulders.

"Dipper Pines... hmm. I'll just have to arrange something, won't I? It's so exhausting being the gentleman, let's hope you appreciate my little sentiment."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First the positives: was really fun to write, I just love the interactions between Ford and Bill and... gah!!! This was awesome to do! I feel like some of it gets drawn out too much with the dialogue and not enough description, but I had to accept it like this or I would never submit it at this point.... I have the next two chapters in progress so... enjoy!
> 
> The usual complaints I hope y'all don't read and if you do.... Sorry: I'm not entirely satisfied with this... but I have other chapters in progress for this that are being held up... so nothing new. I suffer from mild imposter syb=ndrome with my writing, especially when more time is put into it like this work... I'm working on it though... I also feel like I did a little too much telling rather than showing.... what do you think, dear reader, was it too much?


	4. Dead or Undead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dead or undead, that is the question. yeah no, sorry this took forever!  
> Unable to continue on in the rain, Dipper gets a room in Lazy Susan's Inn and runs into a friend from the Falls.

It had been raining for days. The dreary, damp atmosphere began to cling to him as thoroughly as the raindrops did his soaked cloak. 

It was a miserable existence until he finally resigned for the night at a nearby inn. It was a small scale, last mark of society kind of rest stop. It wouldn't be long before he reached territory claimed entirely by the cold blooded feeders. It might as well have been at least, for all the pretense that it was a shared boundary, no human dared tread much further than he was now unless they had some kind of immunity, were ambassadors, suicidal, or blood drinkers themselves. 

As much as he didn’t like the idea of keeping such close quarters given his current  _ … occupational hazards _ , he knew not all vampires were as cruel, cold and disturbed of mind as the one that took his sister, much less insistent on breaking the lines of the treaty as their brethren, but… It still struck a nerve. He wouldn’t feel justified or help looking over his shoulder until Mabel was safe at home. Until then, he could trust no one with his whereabouts, his actions, his intentions… especially in such a place with such a small population.That would be asking for trouble, and he’d had enough of that for the moment to satisfy him. And he still hadn’t found Mabel, so there was bound to be more.

The dimly lit bar was hardly what he would call inviting, but it had a homey touch to it that made him hopeful and release the tension within himself without him realizing if only for a moment while he searched for the owner to ask for a room. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of the inn being fully occupied with nowhere for him to stay with the only alternative this far out being out in the rain that had already chilled him to the bone.

Strolling up to the counter to rest for a spell, the attendant turned her knowing eyes in his direction, sympathetic, but welcoming. “Hey there sugar, what can I do for you? A warm cider, a nice meal?” she smoothed out her apron and dusted powder from her hands as she watched his expression.

A low grumble from Dipper’s stomach answered her question, unabashed of the look it earned him. Susan nodded, “That’s what I thought. No one ever comes here without eating at least my homemade pies, I’ll just be a moment, hon. On the house as long as you intend to stay and don’t cause trouble. I don't mean to send anyone out tonight what with it raining cats and dogs.”

Before Dipper could confirm that he had the coin or thank the short woman’s courtesy, she slipped behind an archway leading to what could only be the kitchen considering the heavenly smell it permeated the inn with. A good amount of the man’s exhaustion was felt then, a slouch and sigh followed Susan’s disappearance. Weary, wary eyes surveyed the inn’s perimeter without drawing too much suspicion from the other patrons. There were a few suckers, but none of them appeared dangerous, imposing or threatening. News possibly hadn’t spread very far he thought. He would have thought more of the significance of such a thing, if a red haired wonder hadn’t spotted him first, a soft smile catching him aback. She drew herself up from the others in her group with clear intent and unswayed confidence to find a seat beside him. 

“Wendy Corduroy, it’s been a while. How’s the business these days?”

“Oh you know, here and there. Sadly we had to keep our cargo out to tough it in this god- forsaken weather. That same god surely know we’d rather stay out with it, but we do have our health to think of. How about you Pines?” She asks enthusiastically, before she turned her hawk eyes to watch for eavesdroppers before muttering, “besides, well, you know… I heard the rumors, but I didn’t… I couldn't believe it until I went to see the Stans.”

“I wouldn't either, I’d call everyone a liar if I hadn’t been there to witness it myself.”

Wendy opened her mouth to say something before the innkeeper returned, a couple trays in her hands, that same tired smile on her lips from before she’d left.

“Don’t stop talking on my account, there’s nothing I haven’t overheard at some point or another,” she winks to the best of her ability with her…’lazy’ eye. “I’ve learned to keep a secret or two.”

Neither Dipper nor Wendy had the time to reply before she vanished again, catering to the others taking refuge in her little establishment. She had left behind a room key on the counter, however with the simple note of “on the house” written over a simple, if crude silhouette of a smeared dagger. He slipped the note in his pocket after considering it. All the older had to say on it after peering over his shoulder was a teasing, “she must have thought you wouldn’t be able to afford a room what with your tattered clothing.” 

It was true he hadn’t dressed in the nicer change of clothes he’d packed in case he needed to make a stop like this, but really, he didn’t think the shirt he wore was  _ that  _ tattered. 

Wendy leaned back against the counter, looking out across the room calmly before breaking the silence they’d let slip between them. “I love this place. If it wasn't so close to the border I probably would practically live here.”

Dipper, who’d taken a drink from the offered glass, nearly spluttered at the sudden rise of amusement he felt. “Don't you do that already?

She met his smile, having missed this. She’d been away from the Falls too long, she thought. He didn’t catch her expression faltering as quickly as she recovered. “Nah, I just spend 75% of the time here while I ready lumber to bring back to the family business. That and transporting lumber across the human towns.”

“The devil’s in the details, Wendy. I bet you learned your grammar from Stanley too.” Dipper replied, quirking a brow and lowering his voice to imitate his Grunkle Ford.

“Oh, knock it off you,” She punched his arm good naturedly before laughing herself. "honestly, all you Pines men are something else.”

The younger shrugs, tilting his drink once more, risking it. “I have been told it runs in the family.

Wendy pauses a moment before commenting with a frown “Yeah, suicidal missions included there huh? You Pines have that in ya, I've seen it... everyone in town whispers about it, you uh... you gonna be okay?”

Dipper blanched at the accusation.

“Yeah I know about your little vigilante thing you got going on and I support you one hundred percent, but I can't help but think you should go about this differently ya know? Anyway, I don't need an answer from you, I know how thickheaded you are. Just... take this.” in her hand was a crisp envelope, she seemed careful to hide. “It's from Ford. He says he wants you to burn it after you read it. I don’t know what it’s about, but it sounds awfully personal.” 

She pulls it just out of reach before he accepts it, looking him dead in the eyes, "Just promise me you'll make time to clear your head and not go into this blindly. you're like a fifth brother to me, Dipster."

"Yeah... yeah I can't promise I'll come back in one piece, but I won't come back dead."

"Dead… or... undead?” Wendy asks, sadness etched on her brow. 

“Of course not. In all seriousness though, if I get turned, I want you to personally put a stake through my heart.”

“If you turn into one of those bastards, it's a promise you can count on Pines.” A grateful smile was aimed at her before the words were swept away in idle conversation, with Dipper listening through most of it. Simple things about the lumber trade and the different territories she’d traveled through and the quality of wood in the different places. Dipper drowned out most of that out, but he sank into the feeling of shared companionship. It wasn’t until the mention of home that his peace of mind started to slip out of his grasp.

Dipper lifted his bowl of soup with a slight flinch then, not wanting to put off eating anymore and hoping to get out of speaking altogether. His wince is not missed by his companion, her attention catching his bloody bandaged hand in an instant. As a result, Wendy finally noticed all the scrapes and bruises littered over the young Pine’s arms and… she realized, his  _ neck _ . Her face grew firm as she stood up from her chair to drag the grown man away from the bar, up the stairs and towards the sleeping quarters.

“Hey!” though surprised, the red-head’s expression alone quieted what protests the Pines could scrounge up without drawing suspicion and he followed quietly behind her. 

“Room key.” she demanded, her hand held out expectantly. She quirked her brow when he fumbled for it, not sure whether or not she was going to scold him for getting hurt or strangle him where there were no witnesses.

It took no time at all for her to fit the key to the lock and sit him down on the bed while she pulled out a roll of bandages he wouldn’t have expected her to be carrying in as small a bag as she carried. 

“I would yell at you for getting hurt, but I’m not sure it would get through to that thick Pines skull of yours.”

Dipper stays silent, unsure of what to say to her.

“You’re not being careful. The scratches on your neck… You know you can’t do anything if you’re taken out. I know we just had this conversation, but… you have very obvious evidence covering you from head to toe that you are acting as a hunter, that will automatically put a target on your head…. and neck!” He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing Wendy was right. He made a face as well that earned a snort form the older.

“You really do take after those old guys back at the shack. Who’d have thought. Just as hard headed, but even Stanley knows how to plan ahead and protect himself. He’s never jumped into a situation he hasn’t been prepared for unless it was unavoidable or he misjudged what he was dealing with. Something you can’t afford.” she sighed then, looking at the floorboards as she unwound enough of the bandage roll to replace the ones around his hand.

“While I would commend you for your willingness to act when you deem it necessary, if you’re already taking hits then you aren’t ready. And before you say you are,  _ I know. _ You aren’t. I’ve known you since you were twelve and still had a crush on me, Dipper. I know when you’re in over your head. It’s not too late to stop now, ya know? Head home and think of a better course of action. An actual  _ plan _ you can work with. It doesn't have to be solid, just something flexible you can fall back on when-  _ if- _ ” she corrects herself when she sees him shrink at the words, though he plays it off as the bandage wrapping around his hand too tightly. “things go wrong”

She finishes tying the bandage and finally looks up at Dipper, waiting to hear what he has to say in his defense.

“I… I can't stop. Not now. I- you of all people should understand that I cannot leave her behind. I’d rather they turn me. She’s still out there, i know it. And I can’t give up until I try. I haven’t gotten very far yet to call it anything but a warm up-”

“Dipper! This warm up is going to get you killed this isn’t sparring exercise, this is real life and... “ she lowers her voice. “This is  _ murder _ .”

“Wendy, we both know the majority of vampires were never truly alive to begin with, it’s why they feed from us. They need blood, the essence a being’s life to satisfy their own empty husks-”

“Yes,” she answers quietly. “But not all, and  _ you of all people should know that _ . Look, I know I can’t convince you to stop, and originally I told myself I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought maybe you knew what you were doing. It’s not like I have any advice you haven’t gotten from Ford and short of knocking you out and dragging you back to the Falls, what can I do? Not even the Falls is safe as it is, at least you’re trying to take control of the situation...” Wendy’s eyes glaze over as she trails off. Doubtlessly she was thinking of her brothers. More specifically the one that went missing.

Dipper doesn’t answer, just nods his head and stares at the floor until she leaves and he watches her feet as they pause before the door shuts behind her.

_ Maybe… just maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing _ … but what else is there for him to do really? 

 

That was when he noticed the letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Opal Spirit who helped me look over this so my impatience didn't get the best of me.
> 
> I also made slight changes to this, mainly to help the transitions between events and what have you. I thought I copied and pasted the changes but I did not.


	5. How To Bait A Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really shouldn't have split the last chapter into two. XD
> 
> Dipper reads the letters and decides to pay a certain vampire a visit as per request.  
> What other choice does he have?

It sat there, innocently across the room from him. His hand rose to the side pocket he’d stored the previous envelope, suddenly warily. This was… stange. Not to mention the implications of anyone besides his Grunkle knowing his possible whereabouts. No one else should know, save Wendy who’d acted as messenger. There was of course, the simple fact that the letter couldn’t possibly be for him. Who even had the chance of defying the impossibility of knowing  _ exactly  _ which room he’d been given a key to-

This gave him pause. He… hadn’t been given a room at random, then. Not if that envelope held his name as he feared it would. Considering this was practically the only rest stop around for miles, miles he’d be traveling on foot. Travelling by horseback would have been too risky. Too loud, too obvious, and the hoof prints were a dead give away and a clear path for any one to follow and inquire after. He needed to be unseen, soundless where possible and the resources he had he needed to keep for himself. 

These taken into account, planning ahead accordingly to set a trap would be no sweat off anyone’s back. 

Honestly, if they wanted to then ask Lazy Susan to prepare a room for someone, with the right specifics, there really was nothing to stop them unless she had reason to object.

Given that, a letter was non-threatening and a peaceful gesture when the more active and popular move would have been an outright assault. His bandaged hand itched and he scowled, fisting it. Wendy had been the one to enter the room first. Would they have cared whether or not she was an innocent bystander if that had been their plan?

Dipper didn’t think they would.

Maybe the letter would give him some insight on the mind he was going up against and what to expect, if anything, to go bump in the inn late at night. 

He’d read the one from his Uncle first, both were no doubt bearers of bad news, but this had been the first time in weeks since he’d heard back from his home. 

Dipper drew a dagger from its sheath to break the seal of the letter given to him through Wendy and eyed the other with scrutiny. 

He dumped out the contents of the first, the only indication that it was in fact from his Grunkle being the seal he only reserved for urgent matters. 

He recognized the letter’s penmanship as well, though it looked rushed and sloppy compared to how it usually was. Would this be some form of bad news then? What could have the his Great Uncle so worried?

 

_ Dear, Alexander _

 

_ I don’t dare make this too long a message, nor address you as I would under lighter circumstances. I am afraid that you are in great danger once more, a monster has stolen your sister away, but now I fear for  _ you _. A great evil has set its eyes on you and I fear I may have led it to your door, wherever you may be taking refuge tonight, if this letter has the misfortune of reaching you at such an ungodly hour that leaving now would draw attention. Do not return to home,  _ he _ has already been here. _

_ Make haste, if you will, and Gods willing, come back only when you’ve found what you're looking for! _

His hand froze and he dropped the letter, watching it’s descent with shaking hands. He’d been found out?  _ Already? _ What was that his great uncle had said? He’d visited the Falls? Did that mean they were occupying the town? Was that still true? He wished his uncle had dated this or at the very least given further indication of- he shook his head. He knew very well why it was kept so vague, in case it was found. He could plead innocence or at the very least, he wouldn't be recognized and the town or his Grunkle suffer the consequences.

He cursed the rain then, he wouldn’t be leaving tonight, some of the roads were already flooded where he was headed next, and at any rate, he’d draw unwarranted attention to himself leaving right after accepting the room.

There was still the question as to who his uncle was talking about? Who did he need to be worried about?

His glanced to the other letter, and before he could think better of it, he held it in front of him. He couldn’t say this was his brightest idea, but he had to know if it had any relevance. Granted, he’d feel silly if he were wrong.

He unfolded the parchment slowly as if he expected a deadly viper to strike once he’d done so. Perhaps there would be though? Metaphorically of course… Maybe it held answers. Maybe it was just a threat? Maybe it was another letter from Ford or… or Stan? He couldn't bring himself to believe those last two alternatives. if it was what he thought it was, then someone very well knew _exactly_ where he was. He was being watched, his Grunkle was being watched… but for how long? 

What  _ were _ the odds that he’d received two letters that day, cornered by the weather conditions and the close proximity of no man’s land? 

_ Mason Alexander Pines, it is a  _ pleasure _ , _

This was definitely not his Grunkle’s writing. It seemed almost smug and it looked too unnecessarily elegant, his eyes drifted back to the paper, too curious to turn back now.

_ Though, I doubt you would agree? I have been  _ dying  _ to find a means of reaching you, but alas, you have been so dreadfully...  _ difficult _ to track down. Do you know that? Of course you do, you’re always so dreadfully careful to cover your tracks and go about retreating as far as you can from the sites of your targets… or what’s left of them, and yet... your efforts were not enough to blind me from your whereabouts now that I have succeeded in finding you. Fear me not, I only wish to converse with you on a matter of utmost importance… _

_ More specifically…  _ **YOU.**

The word sent a chill down his spine and he sucked in a breath, wanting to fling the letter across the room. He didn’t. Instead, he read on, a crease in his brow and a scowl forming at the corners of his mouth.

_ I’ve heard so much about you this past week and I must say, you’ve caught my attention,  impressed me even, you, a mere mortal. Human at that! But I am giving you a way out by giving you this letter…. _

_ Option one is you disappear, people will be none the wiser of your little uprising and the treaty will survive another 30 years of peace, or… you answer my summons and meet with me, the option is yours really… but don't keep me waiting.  I’ll be expecting you at the next stop on your list the old mansion overlooking the  _

_ Apple orchard.  _

 

_ Only the sweetest of nightmares, your secret admirer. _

 

_ P.s. Good luck getting sleep tonight!  _

 

He would have given an arm and a leg to escape the inn sooner, after the confrontation of Susan, there really wasn’t anything more for him to do and he’d been restless as much as he’d been anxious and suspicious of what was to come. The time gave him well, time to think over things, to question whether or not there was a better way to go through with this or at least a way to make sure innocents weren’t getting caught in the crossfire. There wasn’t. If nothing else was resolved, however, There was the matter of whether or not he would ignore the ominous letter he’d received from the anonymous threat. He could answer it, but he’d be walking in blindly again as Wendy would put it as well as walking into some kind of trap. No doubt he would be expected, that, or the sender obviously thought he was getting by on sheer dumb luck and was calling his bluff.

There were a few things Dipper could confirm. He wasn’t going to disappear now, he had to find his sister, and he doubted he’d truly be left to his own devices when his name had been discovered. It would make finding him that much simpler, and if they knew his appearance, he’d have a manhunt out for him.

This vampire was obviously smart, he seemed to type to find a way to outsmart even Ford. That he may actually know Ford from his days as a hunter if he’d revealed himself there of all places. That… didn’t bode well considering he studied under the man. 

Perhaps he just needed to think more like himself, and if that didn't work, he wasn’t sure.

He could meet w this person and give them the advantage of a number of factors, or he could carry on like nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t read the letter. 

That was irresponsible among other things. 

This was an olive branch extended to him, and it was no doubt one that would not come again. If he declined now, he won’t be getting another heads up when he was found. Not taking into account the difficulty he would have to recover his tracks if he could at all. If there truly was an eye on this inn, then there was no way for him to elude that attention.

Dipper sighed, recognizing that this wasn’t a problem he wanted to think too much into at the moment. There was no real choice other than to meet the challenge head on and meet with this vampire. Honestly, if he did anything else he would not only be putting himself at risk but others as he came to realize when Wendy had entered his room, a room he should have declined, really.

If he was indeed expected, then what could he do but show up? To do otherwise would be offensive, and at the very least, this may lead him to the whereabouts of his sister or the vampire that took her. If this vampire wasn’t the very same. He pushed that concern out of the way for now, not willing to accept it despite how within reach it was then. If it was the same, she would either be used as bait to lure him out- though wouldn't saying as much in the letter have been a better tactic in that case? Though they could very well just want to throw him off balance by leaving that out and pulling the card should it be needed.- and he had a feeling if this vampire had taken his sister, he would have no hope of finding her if he did not want him to find her. 

He would go, he relented, but only out of a need for a change in plans. 

If there was ever a chance he could talk about this over a spot of tea, it would be this invitation. There was some humor in that, even if it meant that particular vampire from before had come to mind. From the letter alone, he was getting a very different idea of what this one would be like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my absolute least favorite chapter. I rethought some of the things I had in this originally before I even go to this chapter.... and it was painful. So I had to let it alone for a bit.  
> It's out now though and the next chapter will make up for it because our gay beans are finally going to meet face to face. There might also be a little hinted backstory to Bill, but the setting certainly relates to that.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to hear more about this fanfiction and others, see wat I'm coming up with next etc... or just want to chat, hit me up on Tumblr!  
> @thought-i-was-witty For all the fanfic thingies  
> and @jadecrossroads-blog to chat, though either is fine, this one has little to do with my AO3


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